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Blackstar’s eyes gleamed. “We aren’t stirring up trouble,” he argued. “It was ThunderClan who started the accusations.”

Graystripe’s tail was twitching as the ShadowClan leader went on. “One of my warriors inspected the so-called scent you found inside your border, and he couldn’t tell which Clan it belonged to. As usual, ThunderClan is looking for any chance to tell the other Clans what to do.”

Sandstorm pressed against Graystripe, as though reminding him to control his temper.

Dovepaw wriggled forward so that she could glimpse Tigerheart. The dark brown tabby warrior was keeping his head down. He knows he’s guilty. But do his Clanmates?

As she stared at Tigerheart, the scent of blood touched her nose and she suddenly realized that the young tom was scratched. His fur was ruffled by wounds, not embarrassment, and one of his ears was torn. Perhaps his Clanmates did know he had left scent on ThunderClan’s territory and had decided to punish him.

She frowned, her thoughts wandering. Poor Tigerheart! ShadowClan warriors must be every bit as vicious as the nursery tales said.

A sharp nudge made her jump. “Stop staring at Tigerheart,” Sandstorm snapped. “You look like an owl!”

Was I staring? Dovepaw turned her gaze back to the Great Oak. Blackstar was still lecturing.

“If ThunderClan can’t keep its borders marked and stay inside those markers, then ShadowClan will react.” He sighed dramatically. “Why does ThunderClan always seem to think the other Clans are in their debt after a mission that involved all of us?” He let his gaze grow mournful and drift over RiverClan and WindClan, as though they shared a common burden.

Dovepaw winced. Had Blackstar somehow found out about her visit to Sedgewhisker?

Blossompaw gave her a shove. “Stop fidgeting!”

“Sorry!” Dovepaw hadn’t realized she’d been shuffling her paws so much.

“Be quiet!” Sandstorm hissed at them. “Or I’ll send you both home early!”

Dovepaw pulled in her paws and pressed her lips together, vowing not to say another word. What would StarClan think if she was sent home from a Gathering?

At last Blackstar stopped complaining and Firestar padded to the center of the branch, his chin and tail held high. “Welcome, Mistystar,” he began. “You have earned your leadership and ThunderClan wishes you well.” He blinked warmly at the RiverClan leader. “We shall miss Leopardstar. I remember her from all the way back when I was an apprentice in ThunderClan.” A purr rose in his throat. He was acting as though Blackstar’s speech had never happened. “I always respected her, and, though her loyalty to RiverClan never wavered, she was a leader who understood the importance of keeping every Clan strong.” Firestar flashed a glance at Blackstar before going on. “She had the heart, courage, and strength of the mighty cat she was named for.”

As he dipped his head, a mew sounded from behind Dovepaw. The WindClan warriors were grumbling again.

“Firestar’s always acting like everyone’s ally!”

“Trying to make friends to avoid battle.”

“Never did like the smell of blood.”

“Just like a kittypet.”

Dovepaw whirled around. “Just because he’s friendly doesn’t mean Firestar or ThunderClan is weak!”

Oops! Remembering Sandstorm’s warning, she shut her mouth quickly and turned back to the Great Oak.

“Blackstar.” Firestar used his smoothest mew to address the ShadowClan leader. “We understand borders, and their importance in keeping peace among the Clans. We also know they are worth fighting for.” His voice was suddenly edged with threat. He held Blackstar’s gaze for a moment; then, just as the ShadowClan leader opened his mouth to retaliate, he turned back to the gathered cats. “Good news in ThunderClan,” he mewed brightly. “Cherrykit and Molekit are our newest members, born to Poppyfrost.” He waited while warm murmurs of congratulations echoed through the Clans before concluding, “At this rate, we’ll have to make the warriors’ den even bigger.” He dipped his head. “With the blessing of StarClan.” Then he jumped down from the oak.

Dovepaw lifted her head, feeling very proud of her leader. Around her, the cats began to drift across the clearing. Apprentices mingled, sharing training gossip, and warriors gathered in knots while elders swapped their own news.

Blossompaw and Briarpaw were heading for a cluster of ShadowClan and RiverClan apprentices.

“Are you coming?” Briarpaw called.

Dovepaw blinked. She’d been looking for Tigerheart. “In a while,” she promised.

Where had he gone? Snowbird and Redwillow were gossiping with two WindClan warriors. Tigerheart was nowhere to be seen. She breathed deeply, trying to make sense of the jumble of scents on her tongue.

There!

She tasted his scent at last. Her gaze darted toward a bramble bush at the far side of the clearing. He was crouching in the shadows beneath.

“Hiding?” she mewed, trotting up to him.

He sat up. “What from?”

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  Мир накрылся ядерным взрывом, и я вместе с ним. По идее я должен был погибнуть, но вдруг очнулся… Где? Темно перед глазами! Не видно ничего. Оп – видно! Я в собственном теле. Мне снова четырнадцать, на дворе начало девяностых. В холодильнике – маргарин «рама» и суп из сизых макарон, в телевизоре – «Санта-Барбара», сестра собирается ступить на скользкую дорожку, мать выгнали с работы за свой счет, а отец, который теперь младше меня-настоящего на восемь лет, завел другую семью. Казалось бы, тебе известны ключевые повороты истории – действуй! Развивайся! Ага, как бы не так! Попробуй что-то сделать, когда даже паспорта нет и никто не воспринимает тебя всерьез! А еще выяснилось, что в меняющейся реальности образуются пустоты, которые заполняются совсем не так, как мне хочется.

Денис Ратманов

Фантастика / Фантастика для детей / Самиздат, сетевая литература / Альтернативная история / Попаданцы